


Damn Dog

by MysticalMaker



Category: Manic Street Preachers
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 01:00:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21918712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysticalMaker/pseuds/MysticalMaker
Summary: 'Got to taste for flesh. Got to taste for danger. So I foam and chew. Bite the hands of a stranger.'James spends his nights at a pub drinking his hunger away.
Relationships: James Dean Bradfield/Nicky Wire, James Dean Bradfield/Original Female Character
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	Damn Dog

**Author's Note:**

> james, sex & motorcycles. What a great combination.

_“Feed me, feed me. Can’t you hear me howl?”_  
...

A cold glass of whiskey. The clinking of the ice as the liquid swirls around in the glass. A whirlpool of emptiness. He raised the glass to his lips, the lukewarm liquid burning the back of his throat as his adam’s apple bobbed up and down.

"Another," James mumbled, his head low. He nudged the empty glass to the bar man to refill, the ice clinking against the glass as he did. He ran his fingers through his hair with a deep sigh, pulling at the ends of his curls. A cigarette tucked away behind his ear for later. While sitting at the bar, he watched _her_ from out of the corner of his eye. With dark hair that flowed down her back and light blue eyes, he observed as she carefully adjusted the strap of her dress around the curve of her shoulder.

Suddenly, the man beside him stood up, his breath musky, reeking of alcohol. He stumbled, falling and adjusting his jacket as he went. He then approached the girl that James had been admiring with a drunkard sly smile. The man grabbed her and pulled her outside, his hand dangerously riding up the side of her dress. That's not going to happen.

James quickly tilted his head back, downing the rest of his drink. A taste for flesh, the taste for danger. He sighed and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, grabbing his jacket from the nearby bar stool. He thanked the bar man and headed out towards the heavy doors of the smelly pub.

Outside, the evening’s brisk air was cold. His buttoned shirt was slightly undone, hanging lose against his frame with an opening at the neck which was exposing a part of his chest. He pulled on his black leather jacket and wrapped it firmly around him. In his jacket's pocket he reached for a lighter, in desperate need for a cig. With the click of the lighter, the flickering flame illuminated his face as he lit the cigarette from between his dry lips.

There was depth to his dark brown eyes. A shadow of distilled loneliness. When it came to James, from first glance there was a controlled quietness about him. A slight scruff to his jaw, a scar on his chin. This however contradicted with his presence on stage and his rage of violent aggression. And with the closing of the lighter his eyes returned to the darkness.

Slightly ahead of him on the murky street with all the scum, an open cab stood. A woman was crouching in front of the open door. Through the slip of her evening dress, her legs were sprawled out before her.

“Are yer alright there, love?” James asked, his voice thick in his throat as he took a drag from his cig. He gave her a crude look as he approached her, slowly recognising her as the girl in the pub. Quickly observing her, there was a slight gash to her head. However, a man appeared from the shadows from beside her.

"Piss off," the drunken brute mumbled, pushing James back with a hard shove. James tumbled back as he grit his teeth, his tongue raw and nasty.

"Yer can't treat a bird that way, you know," James called out. punched him, the guy’s jaw breaking out of place. James's were knuckles red, swollen and throbbing as he clenched his fists. The man bitterly swore, his hand over his face in pain.

James dropped his leather jacket over the shoulders of the girl. The warmth of his body still coaxed in the inner silk fabric of the jacket, along with his musky scent. He helped her up, her heels scraping against the concrete pavement as she tried to get her balance.

"What's yer name?"

"Nancy," she croaked, as pulled back her long black hair from under the collar of the jacket. James was storming off down the sidewalk, the reamendments of a cig still burning between his teeth. Nancy hurried after him, shivering as she pulled his jacket tighter around herself.

"Hey, thanks for back there," She said as she lightly touched her forehead where the gash resided. She hesitated, her tips of her fingers lightly smudged with blood.

James straddled the motorcycle, his black combat boots firmly against the pavement. He dropped the cigarette from his lips and crushed it with the heel of his black boot.

“Aye. I'll get you sorted out. Now get on,” he grins, tossing her a helmet. Hitching up her dress, she draped her long legs over the motorcycle and sat behind him. Her knees brushing the lower backs of his thighs. He smirked.

"You need to get closer than that, otherwise you'll fall off," He told her, looking over his shoulder as he smirked.

"Hey, i don't bite." She slowly wrapped her arms around him, getting a grip of his shirt. He pulled her closer, her thighs against his lower back, her core firmly against the back of his jeans. She breathed in his deep musk. The motorcycle suddenly roared to life and she held onto him as they entered the nightlife with the flashing of the city lights. The brisk wind was cold against her exposed legs as the hem of her dress fluttered behind her. She shivered and relied on him for warmth. She wrapped herself tighter around his muscular frame while resting her head on his shoulder.  
…  
Back at his London apartment. He turned the lamp as he draped his jacket over the black leather couch. She sat down gingerly, still fighting the exhilaration from the ride here of his motorcycle.

"Wait there, I'll patch you up."

Using the light from the lamp, James pulled out a bottle of whiskey. He then unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt and rolled the sleeves up to his elbows. By taking off the cap of the bottle, he wet a clean cloth with the alcohol, however, not before taking a deep swig from the bottle himself. Placing the down the bottle of whiskey, he drew his full concentration to her wound.

She then took a vicious swig of whiskey as he cleaned her wound. With his furrowed brow, he gently dabbed the cloth against her temple. His breath was hot against her face, the liquid still burning between his lips. She hissed. Noticing her hesitation, he softened his movements and neatly placed a small band aid over her cut above her brow.

“There," James said, giving her a small smile. "I’ll run yer a bath and get yer something more comfortable to wear.” He turned on the tap, the hot water flowed into the tub. He then left her, closing the bathroom door behind him. With ease, Nancy slipped off her ruined dress and pulled on a silk robe over her underwear as she waited for the bath. The fabric was soft against her legs, smooth to touch.

Out in the other room, James had pulled out his guitar and began to play some slow riffs to calm himself down and soothe himself. She watched him strumming his guitar, his fingers moving and flexing.

She stood by the door and watched him as he played. Carefully, she sat down in a chair directly across from him, trying not to disturb him. She relaxed and her silk robe slipped across her knee as she adjusted her legs. The robe gave way, slightly showing the lining of her panties.

“Touch yerself” he softly mumbled, his throat dry and his voice a certain level of huskiness.

She slowly moved her hand beneath the lining of her underwear, stroking herself between the folds of the fabric. Her legs parted. Her fingers resembling his movements on the guitar. She sighed, closing her eyes as she was lured on by the music, created by the flexing of his fingers.

"No,” he snarled. “Look at me." She opened her eyes, his dark eyes on her. His fingers were on the strings, plucking them slowly producing the rawness of his guitar. she began to moan as her strokes matched his. As James began to quicken the pace of the tune, her strokes deeper and faster as she touched her clit.

suddenly he stopped playing, the notes dragging out. He knelt down before her, dragging down her panties with his teeth. She threaded her fingers into his hair. His tongue, wild and rough. She began to shake and he propped her leg over his shoulder for balance, bracing herself against him. This allowed him more access and she raised her head, feeling the sensation of his raw tongue inside her. He sucked while she moved her hips, getting the pace and friction that she needed. The scruff of his jaw brushing against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs.

She gasped. She threaded her fingers into his curls of his hair and yanked, pulling James up as her lips met his. His mouth was warm and inviting, and she deepened the kiss, biting down on his lower lip and tasting blood. He pulled away, his fingertips lightly touching his bleeding lip and winced.

“Oi, yer shouldn’t have done that.” James pulled her into the bathroom. He bent her down over the sink, and fucked her slow, buckling his hips. She wrapped her legs around his waist, trying to grab fistfuls of his shirt as he-

“Oh, get a room why don’t ya,” Nicky in the bathtub, long legs draping over the side of the tub with a floral shower cap on.

James, flustered, hurriedly pulled up his zip. His cock still hard and throbbing in the confinements of his jeans. He groaned in frustration.

“What the hell are yer doing here Wire?!”

“My hot water has run out. But there was a bath and I made myself welcome. Clearly you had other plans,” Wire smirked, flashing his teeth.

Despite the interruption and acting as a bit of a tease for James, she wandered over to Welsh man in the bathtub. Driven by the heat of the moment, she bent over the edge, her lips connecting with his as she kissed him. At first Nicky was taken aback, his eyes wide. But it wasn’t long until he closed his eyes and leaned up to meet her with his long torso rising from the water, deepening the kiss. The way his tongue was exploring her mouth and playfully intertwining his tongue with hers. Warm and sweet.

Nancy pulled off the rest of the robe, it falling to her feet. She stepped into the bath, and positioned herself in between Nicky's legs. While in the bath, Nicky began to gently massage her back with his long hands, his fingers creating a fluid motion against her skin. She moaned, her hair falling from around her neck, which exposed her skin at the base of her neck. Nicky leaned forward, his lips gently kissing her shoulder, leading up to the curve of her neck.

James watched in bewilderment as this act played out before him. A dark look in his eye. He casually put his hand in the water, dangerously roaming between her parted legs. She gasped as James touched her. His fingers started to stroke. She suddenly tilted her head back against Nicky and began to move her hips in a steady rhythm. As James teased her pussy, her movements were rubbing against Nicky behind her. She felt Nicky grow hard, his cock rubbing against her arching back in the water.

Her and Nicky began to move in time with James's thrusting hand, desperately grinding each other, creating a flow-on effect. She moaned and Nicky was breathless behind her. James felt in control. He built up a steady rhythm, each touch pleasuring her more than the last. He watched the curve of her breasts and how they bounced in time with his hand, her tips of nipples hard. From the side of the bath, he bent over and caught one of her nipples between his teeth. She screamed, her chest rising up to his touch. He bit, the tip of her nipple inflamed and sensitive in his mouth, as his tongue eased the pain. Nicky watched him suck the nipple from over her shoulder. His slow precise movements of James’s lips as he teased her both of her nipples. Nicky became envious.

“James…” Nicky gasped, his voice barely audible above a whisper. James hummed. He looked up, despite still being distracted by the shape of her breasts. His eyes darken when they landed on Nicky, in his desperate state. James directed his attention to him, shifting himself to his end of the tub.

James leaned over the edge of the bath, his breath hot against Nicky’s ear. “This is what yer get for interrupting me earlier, " James snarled. He then handed Nicky a white towel, forcing him out of the bath. Nicky's lean frame. He wrapped the towel around his waist, covering himself. However when Nicky went to remove his shower cap, he used the towel. Nicky started to used it to ruffle his hair.

James watched. As Nicky moved his arms as he dried his hair with the towel, a trail of hair led him somewhere else. Nicky's dick was out, hard to touch. Smirking, James licked the tip. Nicky deeply moaned. He used his tongue again, ending up with his lips teasingly sucking the tip. Nicky stopped what he was doing, dropping the towel. His mid length hair ran wildly alongside his jaw as he looked down at James, his thin wirey frame looming over him as he was on his knees his lips warm and wet.

Nicky moaned, his eyes glancing down at the man between his thighs. While not taking his eyes off of him, James smirked as he teased Nicky, running a finger along his length. Nicky gasped, his long legs buckling underneath him.

“James...stop it you welsh cunt.”


End file.
